


Spider Webs and G-strings

by Willow_Lodge



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Crossdressing, Fluff and Humor, Light Angst, M/M, No Smut, Peter likes panties
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-05 06:04:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11571888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willow_Lodge/pseuds/Willow_Lodge
Summary: Inspired by an interview I saw where Tom mentioned he has to wear a thong under the suit.Peter realises his new suit will require some adjustments to his wardrobe, and there are many resulting shenanigans and awkward moments. Also, who the hell is the guy running around with freaking swords, in a suit that looks weirdly similar to his?





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> First off, yes this is a spideypool fic. I know the age gap is sketchy with Homecoming version Peter, but I will do my best to be respectful. Peter will be 16 after the time skip past the movie, and Wade will 21. There will be NO SEX. With that out the way, this fic starts right after Civil War and before the movie. Also this is not the movie version of Deadpool. Not beta read.

Chapter One  
It takes precisely three patrols around New York before he realises that wearing boxers under his new suit is not an option, and going commando is even worse. With how tight the material of the suit was, every bunched up line of his regular undergarments was visible, and without them nothing was left to the imagination. He was already in with the police for being a vigilante, he didn't want to add public indecency to his rap sheet. On his surprise mission to Berlin with Mr. Stark, he had been given an under-armour that covered most of his body and made underwear obsolete. Mr. Stark probably thought it hadn't been necessary when he would be fighting muggers instead of Avengers, or had maybe noticed it was a bit more restrictive than Peter preferred, either way it wasn't with the suit when he was gifted it after the battle. Which was good because struggling into the extra padding took ages and he couldn't imagine having to either wear it under his clothes or struggle into it every time he had to fight. The suit itself was plenty in his opinion. Excepting of course the underwear situation. He spent about five minutes one night, looking at his phone and blushing, trying to decide whether to call Mr. Stark and ask what he should do before chickening out and going on his computer instead. A few google searches (some of which end up with sketchier results than his young eyes wanted to see) end with him having a few options via cosplayers, ballet dancers, and the like. The easiest and cheapest one being also one of the more awkward options for a teenage boy not exactly confident in his masculinity. His mind flitted to all of the controversy when he first started about whether he was a guy or a girl. Thankfully it was mostly put to bed when his hero name became widely known. Mostly. He sat in his desk chair, as conflicted as a boy could be about undergarments, when his aunt knocked and opened the door. He quickly closed his laptop and turned to face her with an unconvincing smile. "Hey Pete, you feel like thai for dinner?" She asked, deciding to ignore whatever he had been up to, a decision she had been making often since she realised he was sneaking out on a regular basis. Spiderman had become an unspoken elephant in the Parker household, Peter doing his best to not act like a vigilante around her, while she did her best to not act like she wanted to wrap him in bubble wrap and ground him for life. It wasn't the most healthy thing but it was far better than what Peter thought would happen if she found out what he spent his nights doing. "Ugh ya, sure. Thai would be great. I love thai." Peter rambled. "Oookay.. Well we'll leave in a bit then." She replied before leaving the room and erasing the awkward conversation from her mind. The next day found him wandering a clothing store, having little idea where to find what he needed. But he had no idea how to sew what he needed, so random department store it is. It took him a good twenty minutes before he found the women's underwear section. He stood in the aisle, as conflicted as a teenage boy surrounded by lingerie could be. "So, Peter. What the heck are we even looking for?" He mumbled to himself as his eyes quickly flitted over all sorts of bras and panties, the likes of which he had never seen excluding awkward encounters with his aunt’s laundry. "Excuse me? Is there something I can help you with?" Peter jumped a bit, his spidey-sense going off dully, and turned to see a middle-aged woman standing nearby with a pinched expression and an employee tag. "Oh. Ummm..." He quickly tried to come up with a suitable reason for him to be there, one that neither included superhero costumes, or would make him seem like a pervert. He couldn't think of anything. "I think perhaps you might be in the wrong section, young man?" She said pointedly. "No! I mean. I wasn't... I was looking for, well I need..." He decided an almost truth would be both the least painful, and most helpful option. "I need something that wont show under something... tighter than I usually wear. But I am not really sure what the best option would be." The woman blinked a few times at him, before her expression turned into an understanding smile. Peter had a feeling she had misinterpreted him but did not feel the need to correct her. Though it would be kind of fun to see her face if she realised she was helping Spiderman shop for underwear. "Well I think we can find something that would work. Any preference for style, material, or colour?" She asked pleasantly. "Uh, no. Just something that wont show. And be comfortable I guess." He answered uncertainly. He had never put this much thought into his underwear in his life. "Ok then how about..." She browsed the aisle thoughtfully. "This?" She handed him a small plastic hanger holding a blue thong made of lace. "Oh." He didn't know what else to say. Problem solving and researching somehow wasn't the same as actually thinking about buying this little number and wearing it. "Maybe something a bit more... casual?" He asked. She nodded and went back to browsing before coming back with a small plastic package. He read the package quickly, before nodding. "Yeah, this will do fine. Thank you." He said with a smile. "Of course. Hope they work out." The woman replied with a smile before walking away. Ten minutes later he left the store with a plastic bag containing five cotton thongs in various colours, and a furious blush from going through checkout.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter has an interesting day at school, and then meets a certain merc while on patrol.

Chapter Two  
The next morning presented an awkward decision. He sat in his room, staring at his suit and the plastic package. Either he would have to come home and change into his suit and his new… undergarments before patrol, or he would have to put them on right then and spend the entire day with his suit under his clothes like usual, with one unusual addition.  
He gave himself a shake. “Come on Spiderman, it’s just some underwear.”  
He stripped out of his pajamas and quickly ripped open the package and shimmied into one of the thongs, not noticing it was a red not unlike his suit.  
They fit alright, thankfully. The front was obviously a bit tight, in comparison to what he usually wore. And the back would take some getting use to. He had to admit though, that his butt looked pretty good.   
He cleared his throat at that thought and went back to dressing. Sure enough there was no sign of any lines under his suit, and as he shifted around he felt oddly more secure than he usually did in his… below regions.   
“Well, not bad I guess.” He concluded before finishing getting dressed and ready for school.  
-  
School that day was interesting. It took quite a while to get use to how the thong felt, much more present when he walked around and giving him a constant wedgie sensation. He spent a lot of time shifting in his seat, trying to not be obvious in his distraction.   
He failed, at least in the case of Michelle.   
“What’s your problem Parker? Somebody slip you itching powder after gym again?” She deadpanned at him during Spanish.   
Wincing at the reminder of the very uncomfortable event, Peter answered “No, thankfully. Why do you ask?” He aimed for nonchalance and thoroughly failed. Partially due to still being stuck on the itching powder incident. Being Spiderman meant he could heal from broken bones and stab wounds in a fraction of the time normal people did, but it meant nothing against the power of a pair of jeans filled with itching powder.  
“Because you have been spending the entire day like a cartoon character with a bug dropped down their shirt.” At his confused expression she pantomimed an odd fidgety dance and he realised what she meant.  
“Oh, no. Just umm, new… pants?” He lied. It was unconvincing to say the least, especially with how obviously worn his pants were.  
“Sure, Parker. If you say so.” She said with a disinterest that might have been feigned, and returned to reading her book, which was on wig culture in Europe.   
Ned was oblivious, thankfully, as Peter really didn’t want to either lie, or tell his friend he was wearing a thong when he couldn’t explain why.  
It was lunch, and he was listening to Ned go on about how Captain America was still on the lam, and he thought it might be connected to how Spiderman hadn’t been around very much lately.   
“Maybe they are working together! That would be so awesome! They could form their own Avengers!” He enthused in between bites of his pb and j.  
“You know Captain America is technically a wanted criminal now, I don’t think Spiderman would want to make his reputation even worse by working with him.” Peter tried to make it sound like he was just reasoning it out, instead of actually being Spiderman and commenting on the issue.  
“Yeah I guess. Still would be cool though!” He continued.  
Peter kind of envied Ned the fact that he could just think about stuff like that. Peter had to actually make decisions about those things. He had people like Tony Stark come to him and ask for him to help take down a national icon. Which, don’t get him wrong was awesome, it had also been a head trip. He was just a kid when Captain America came back, and helped fight off an alien invasion right there in New York. He had never imagined fighting him, or that he would even be able to. He never imagined meeting Mr. Stark or actually getting help learning to be a superhero from him. Times changed. And so did underwear.  
Patrol was… nice, that afternoon. He had honestly been missing just being in his city, helping people and stopping everyday common criminals. No super-soldiers, no small but then giant men. And no weird chafing or worrying that someone would be offended by his crotch. The thong did its job, and he found he actually felt a bit freer in his movement, though that might have been in his head. Either way he was much more comfortable with his decision than when he had first bought them.  
It was late at night, he had already called in his daily report to Happy, and he was about ready to head back home and try and get some sleep, when his spidey-sense went off. He followed it a few blocks over, swinging quickly between the buildings before reaching a dark alleyway.   
He crouched above, and watched the odd scene below him. There was a man in a red suit holding a sword to another man’s throat. The suit looked a bit too much like his, though it was bulkier than his, armoured, with black patches over the eyes. Peter didn’t appreciate a criminal having any resemblance to him, if the police mistook the man for him, his reputation would get even worse. The press would have a field day if they heard Spiderman had been sighted with a sword.  
He jumped down into the alley just as the man shouted “I mean it you, shit-weasel! Give me a name or I’ll play kickball with your head!”  
“Hey! Let him go!” Peter shouted, worried things were about to escalate.  
The man looked over his shoulder and his eyes went wide (his masks eye’s seemed to move like Peter’s which was another similarity he did not like)   
He whirled around with a gasp, seeming to lose interest in his interrogation. “Spidey! I can’t believe it! To think little old me would run into you?”  
He gushed with an almost girlish excitement, which Peter thought kind of odd given how much bigger the man was than him.   
“Put the sword down.” He tried for commanding, but it didn’t seem to work since the man just continued to babble, not even noticing that whoever he had been threatening used the distraction to slip past him and run away.  
“Guess this is my lucky night! You know, I have wanted to meet you ever since I first saw that spandex covered ass on the news. And you are even more spiderific in person, baby boy.”  
Peter was starting to get mad. And embarrassed. Most criminals tried to shoot him, they didn’t flirt or talk about his ass. “Don’t call me that!” He growled.   
“Aawww don’t be like that Spidey, you may be this cities Spiderman, but that doesn’t mean I can’t call you my baby boy.” He finished the ridiculous statement with a wink.  
“I am not your anything!” Peter attacked, kicking the sword out of the man’s hand before knocking him back into the alley wall.   
“Well you could at least buy me dinner first.” The man quipped as Peter webbed him to the wall, somewhat suspiciously docile about being captured by the web-slinger.   
“You wish, whoever you are. Sit tight, I’ll send the police your way soon. Have a good night, and please stop looking like me.” With a final salute he launched back up the to the rooftops, ready to be done with the odd exchange.   
As he swung away, planning on stopping by a payphone before going home and crashing, he heard the man yell behind him. “Deadpool! And you wear it better, but I’ve worn it longer!”


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter is bad at keeping secrets, and even worse at excuses

Chapter Three  
He starts wearing a thong every day. After a couple weeks he went back to the store for more, and a few had actually caught his eye in a less practical way. He had a decent repertoire now. Turned out lace was even less visible under his suit. The only issue he had had so far was dealing with boners. Turned out, the tighter your drawers, the harder it was to… well he had a few more awkward teen boy moments than before. And of course, he guarded the secret of his choice underwear almost as well as his secret of being a superhero. At first he was pretty paranoid about it, Flash had enough ammunition without adding an unexplainable penchant for traditionally female underwear, but it turned out that it was pretty easy to not let someone see your without pants on. He already changed for PE in the bathroom to hide his magic spider muscles, and it wasn’t like he sagged his pants or anything. So really no one should have found out. Except then someone did.

He had just finished an afternoon patrol and was in his room waiting for dinner. The day had been a little more tiring than usual, with a history test he hadn’t studied for (he had actually completely forgotten about it) and a close encounter with a mugger and a sawed off shotgun weirdly enough.   
“Why can’t they all just have those tiny pistols?” He mused out loud, laying on his bed, stripped out of his suit but feeling too lazy at the moment to put civvies back on, so he was only wearing a dark blue thong.  
All of a sudden the door opened and Ned backed in, “Ya, sure May, my mother isn’t expecting me back in a bit. Hey Peter, thought I would stop by, you seemed freaked after history…” he trailed off after he closed the door and actually turned fully to look at Peter.  
He was frozen on the bed, not really knowing how to handle the sudden intrusion.  
“Are you wearing… panties?”  
“What?! No! These are… um. These are just..” He stuttered out, finally springing up from his bed and scrambling to find pants. Regrettably, this gave Ned a view from the back.   
“Dude! Why are you wearing a thong!?”   
“Quiet!” Peter frantically hushed, struggling into pants and praying to the god of teenage spiders that Aunt May hadn’t heard anything .  
Ned looked somewhat chastised, but mostly he just seemed confused and a little in shock from unexpectedly seeing Peter’s ass.  
“Please tell me this isn’t a kink thing because I really don’t need to know that much about you, I’m still recovering from when we played truth or dare with Michelle.”  
Peter shuddered a bit at the memory, no one had really been spared that day. “No Ned, I do not have a panty fetish.”  
I think he thought vaguely, still a bit annoyed with the boner thing.  
“Then why are you wearing those?” He asked again, now more curious than anything.  
“They umm… were a gift?” Peter lied, hitting a wall in what to say.  
Ned’s face screwed up, and he realised what conclusion he could be making.  
“From my aunt! For Christmas! It was a.. joke? An inside, long story joke? And I kinda just wore them as a joke?” He rambled on, hoping that what he was saying somehow made sense.  
“Well then… if it was a joke, why are you still wearing them? Christmas was ages ago, dude.”   
Damn it, almost got away with it.  
“They’re… comfortable?” He replied hesitantly, hoping that this would be an acceptable answer.   
Ned just kind of cocked his head to the side and squinted his eyes for a minute while he considered that. Peter tried not to fidget. He failed.  
“If you say so. Want to play some video games? Your Aunt invited me to stay until dinner.”  
Peter sighed in relief that his friend was letting it go, and nodded before going to grab the controllers.   
So I made it through that with at least a scrap of my dignity left. Let’s just hope no one else finds out.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Peter had a nickel for every awkward conversation he has had with his Aunt May, he would be richer than Mr. Stark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this has the time skip past the movie. Also Peter will be sixteen during this fic, not fifteen like the movie, so happy belated bday Peter I guess

Chapter four  
People did find out. But not until after he tried to bust a weapons deal, almost drowned, tried to stop a robbery, got locked in a bunker, blew up a national monument, blew up a ship, lost his suit, got a girlfriend, almost got killed by her dad, got his suit back, and lost his girlfriend. And that was just a few highlights.  
But he wasn’t thinking about any of that now. He was freaking out for different reasons.  
“WHAT THE FUCK!?”  
He turned around, half hoping he was hallucinating. But no. She was right behind him.  
Aunt May was staring at Peter in disbelief. And either rage or nausea. Peter, who was wearing the new suit from Mr. Stark. Excluding the mask of course. Plausible deniability did not exist in that moment.  
“Aunt May… I can explain.”  
He couldn’t really. Not in a good way. In a I-am-teenage-vigilante way. Which was definitely a bad way.  
“I am going to kill Tony Stark.”  
Peter blinked. Sometimes his aunt was a bit too quick on the draw, even for him.  
After one traumatising phone call to Mr. Stark (traumatising for all parties), one Spiderman suit almost put in the garbage disposal, one heart-to-heart that lasts until four in the morning, and a whole lot of negotiating rules, they start to figure it out.  
May seems to realise that there is no chance of Peter retiring from crime fighting, which was good because he didn’t know what he would do if she tried to ban him from being Spiderman. He didn’t need the suit, that was true, but Spiderman was who he was. A part of him.  
Thankfully she understood that. She wasn’t happy with it, but she understood. So there were rules now. Like that he had to come home at some point every day, had to tell her any night that he went out on patrol, report any and all injuries, and that Tony would link her into the suits (newly rebooted) gps. It was all tiring and he would probably disobey purely out of forgetfulness more often than not.  
Of course he spent the next week being as well behaved as he could. He came home promptly for dinner, made sure no muggers stabbed him, and managed to not end up in any negative news articles. A model teenage vigilante. And then Aunt May found his thongs.  
He had stopped being as territorial about his room, as there was no hidden Spidertech to protect, so May had actually gone inside to put away some laundry instead of leaving it by the door. Of course, the first drawer she opened was not the shirt drawer. It was the thong drawer.  
When Peter came home twenty minutes later, he found his aunt sitting on the couch with the entire pile of panties in front of her. He immediately knew they were his too (something he tried not to have a mini crisis about. He could reaffirm his masculinity later)  
“Whyyyy?” She asked in the most perplexed voice possible, gesturing the admittedly sizeable pile. She was really praying that she wasn’t about to find out Spiderman was a part-time panty thief or something. She was sure she had raised Peter better than that.  
“They don’t show under my suit?” He wasn’t sure why it came out a question. “You need more thongs and g-strings than me. So you can be Spiderman. Without a panty line.”  
“Yes?”  
May sighed in relief at having an innocent explanation, except after a pause she realised it couldn’t be the whole answer.  
“Ok I could almost believe that. Except.”  
Peter cringed as she started sorting out specific articles. Like one pair with little ribbons, or another pair that was made of lace and had flower patterns. It was rather apparent they had not all been bought with just functionality in mind.  
“Those were on sale?” He tried weakly.  
She just laughed and patted the space next to her. He sat down reluctantly.  
“Listen, Peter. If you want to wear thongs, it’s ok. I think it will be quite a bit easier to deal with than you being Spiderman for example.”  
“So that’s it then? Just, it’s ok?” Peter asked hesitantly, still expecting some uncomfortable questions or something.  
“Well there is one thing.” May said with a more serious tone to her voice.  
He braced himself. “And that would be?”  
“Do you even know how to wash these properly?” She asked, sounding like she expected the answer to be no, which was confirmed when he just smiled sheepishly.  
“Ok. Time for a lesson on how to treat delicates.” She announced.  
Peter blushed a bit, but past the embarrassment he was really thankful that he had such a cool aunt


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter has another encounter with the mouthy merc.

Chapter Five  
After everything that had happened, Peter just wanted some peace. Or at least what equaled peace in his weird web-slinging life. In-between the Avengers, the Vulture, everything with his aunt, he just wanted some peace. Even his birthday had passed during the stress-filled period after he took down Vulture where he was still figuring out what his next step was.   
Now though, everything was good. He had his awesome tech-filled suit from Mr. Stark back, things were good between him and his aunt, and he finally got caught up in his school reading. So, he was ready for some peace, and it seemed like he was going to have it.   
He got up on time, Aunt May made somewhat good gluten-free pancakes, he was wearing a really cute thong with little strawberries on it, and he had no tests that day. It seemed like it would be a super peaceful, productive day for the crime fighter. Except everything went downhill from there. First it started raining, and nothing ruins feeling like you look nice and your hair is behaving like getting drenched because superheroes don’t carry umbrellas. Then he almost forgot to under-perform in gym and got flustered, resulting in him falling from the climbing rope. Ned wouldn’t be forgetting that for a long time. And to finish off his school day he had to skip the decathlon team practice because of an apartment fire.   
A few hours later Peter was pouting on a rooftop. Thankfully the rain had petered out, but the past few hours of taking out his frustrations on damp criminals hadn’t helped his mood. In fact it had somewhat soured. So when his spidey-sense pinged for the tenth time that night without any discernable cause, he was ready to scream. Why did it seem like his most trusted ability was suddenly malfunctioning? Instead of the momentary and dependable pings that led him to thugs and bank robbers, it was an almost constant stream of ‘Lookout!’ mixed with occasional louder bleeps of ‘Seriously, oh no!’ almost like danger was just… following him around. The entire time he was on patrol.  
“Crap!” He swore, and stood up from his pouting spot to scope the surroundings. He was such an idiot. How did he not realise someone was following him? What a rookie mistake! No wonder Mr. Stark barely ever called him in to help out.   
A few minutes of backtracking, following the random pings in his brain, and he spotted a red suit darting behind a chimney.   
“Hey! You! Get back here. Why are you following me?” He shouted.   
No one answered or came into view, so he slowly circled the chimney, arm raised ready to attack. Whoever was in the red suit, they would regret following him. But there was no one on the other side. He stared in confusion at the bricks, before a whistle sounded behind him. He whirled around to see the person, the man, in the red suit casually reclining on the edge of the roof.  
“Well hi there, Spidey. Long time no see.” He chirped, sounding too cheerful for a man just caught stalking someone.  
“Not as long for you as me, seeing as you have been following me for who knows how long, and I’ve never met you.” Peter grumbled. “Tell me why you were following me, now! I wont ask again.”  
“Oooh I like a man who demands what he wants.” The man purred. “Though you seem a little mixed up there, we have too met. It was a beautiful moonlit night, the sound of distant violins in the air, and a certain dashing web-slinger came down from the heavens to honor me with the sight of his ass.”  
Peter just shifted uncomfortably and narrowed his eyes. “What are you talking about? That sounds like a pervy noir film.”  
The man pouted, which was odd to see because you really shouldn’t have been able to tell through his mask. “I’m hurt baby boy. You really don’t remember me?”  
He shook his head. The man was slightly familiar, but that might have just been on account of the similar suit.   
“Alright. Well apparently last time I didn’t give a lasting impression. Let me fix that.” He stood up from his lounging position and gave a theatrical bow. “Deadpool, at your service.”  
Peter didn’t really pay that much attention to his theatrics as when the man bowed , he caught sight of the two swords strapped to his back, and that along with his name made him suddenly recall the night he had caught ‘Deadpool’ interrogating some guy in an alley.  
“You!?” He asked in shock. “That was like ages ago, why are you stalking me? God you better not have been following me this whole time!” If he was being followed for this long, who knows what he knew! His address, his identity, where he hides his backpack… if Mr. Stark found out he would never live it down.  
“Oh no no no, not since then.” He reassured. “Just last week. Physically that is. I have been keeping my eye on you for a lot longer though.” And that was a lot less reassuring. “It’s hard not to since you are so darn cute.” He flirted.   
“Would you stop talking to me like that! I’m a crime fighter, and you are a criminal! And stop stalking me!”  
“Stalking is a strong word. So negative. More like we were just taking some romantic nighttime walks that you didn’t realize were happening. Plus I am not a criminal! Just a… frenemy with the law.”   
“No ok! No!” Peter yelled in frustration. This guy was so aggravating and kept just ignoring how he was a super-powered vigilante that was actively threatening. Who did that?  
“Hey, calm down spidey. Seems I’ve cucked up.” He muttered, seeming very down all of a sudden. “I suppose someone like you wouldn’t appreciate my… company.”   
Peter for some reason started to feel a bit guilty. This guy was clearly dangerous. But he was also kind of… sweet? And apparently he was now sad, thanks to Peter.  
“The first night we met… what were you doing?”  
“Oh that? I was on a bounty. Looking for the head dickweed of some heroin workshop in Hells Kitchen. That guy was a poppy resin supplier. Like what a shitty florist, if he hadn’t gotten away I woulda funked his junk.”  
“Oh.” Peter was a bit taken-aback. That wasn’t what he was expecting. He thought this guy was a low-level villain or maybe just an eccentric thug. He wasn’t expecting something so… understandable. Of course he was still dangerous and seemed a little unhinged. But if he was against the same things as Peter was, like drug dealing dicks, then he couldn’t be that bad.  
“Well that’s actually kind of cool, I guess.” He mused.   
“Really?!” He said in surprise, instantly perking up.  
“Uh. Ya. I mean, I kind of spend my nights beating up guys like that, so I can’t really say anything about you doing the same thing.”  
“You really think I’m like you?” Deadpool asked, something uncomfortably close to awe in his tone.  
Peter just laughed awkwardly, as he wasn’t really sure what to say. He was saved from having to come up with something though, by his stomach loudly growling.   
“Oh.” He said in surprise. He didn’t even realize how late into the night it was, he had definitely missed dinner with May.  
“Hey spidey, I don’t suppose you would like to go get some grub? I know a great place near hear to get some pepperoni pie.” Deadpool said both shyly and with an almost heartbreaking amount of hope.  
Would that really be a good move? Should I even talking to this guy? I barely know him.   
Deadpool was waiting for his answer, the eyes on his mask open wide and earnest.  
No one this sincere could be that bad. Even if he is super weird.  
“Yeah, that would be cool.”   
His words were immediately met by a girlish squeal and an odd little dance.  
What did I just agree to?


End file.
